


A Seam Across The Sky

by ix_tab



Series: This Is What Love Looks Like [7]
Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: 5+1 Things, A Beginning With No End, Boys In Love, Golden Lovers, Hurt Comfort Lite for your Soul, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ix_tab/pseuds/ix_tab
Summary: Five first experiences for Kenny and Kota throughout their relationship, and one constant that only grows stronger as time passes.





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've seen the 5+1 format of fic, but I wanted to give it a whirl, since I had a few smaller, interconnected ideas. 
> 
> Can I just say that the current stream of excellent Golden Lovers fic is beyond inspirational, fuels me to write, and thank you, as always to everyone who reads my work. 
> 
> Your kind words and thoughts mean the world.
> 
> Title from Murder By Death's "Good Morning, Magpie"

**FIRST CONTACT**

It was miserable, thinking that something you love won’t love you back. All that effort, all the desire, the sacrifice and the work and there wasn’t a space for him in wrestling. 

Kenny couldn’t stop wishing though. He found himself looking, searching for signs, glimpses that anyone else in the world thought like he did, wanted to do the things that he did, with his body, his emotions, his mind, with the whole of his presence and being. 

And it’s then, in the midst of self doubt and resignation, the miserable emotional slump he found joshi. He knew about it, of course, he wasn’t ignorant about wrestling in places other then North America.

But knowing, ‘oh Japan has good women’s wrestling’ and then seeing matches? Worlds of difference. The violence was terrifying and thrilling. There was an elegance and explosiveness that he hadn’t experienced before.

It burned away the shadows clouding his vision and thoughts. Here were people doing things with wrestling that he’d never had the chance to. He wanted. He wanted to see everything, know everything.

It sent him down the rabbit hole, and there, like the light at the end of a tunnel, was Kota Ibushi. _He’s so handsome and so crazy_ , Kenny thought, watching grainy video of Kota riding bikes off of piers, back flipping into his opponents on asphalt and looking pretend shocked at the wreckage he left in his wake. The flicker of a grin before he moved on, relentless and wild.

Kenny found himself grinning too. He had never, ever needed anything like he needed to meet this man, to know what it was like to put his hands on him and to be, probably, if video evidence was anything to go by, be thrown into a wall.

Life looked good, for the first time in a little while.


	2. First Times

**FIRST TIMES**

“Ahhh, Ibushi, why are you asking that now?” Kenny said muffled with his face in the blanket. Kota laughed, patted him on the shoulder companionably.

“You can call me by my first name, since that’s at least the fifth time I’ve sucked your dick,” Kota offered, looking smug in the post coital glow. Kenny groaned again.

“Stop keeping count, weirdo. God, I can’t believe I thought you were shy when we met.” Kenny knew that he was just complaining for the sake of it, but it was also a bit true.

It was a little mind blowing, the difference between the polite, intense but a little spacey man he’d gotten to know, versus that same man with a direct, sparse way of thinking and speaking, and a hunger for him.

Kota the performer - friendly, risk taking and confident. Willing to look a fool, willing to go to ridiculous lengths to see an idea through.

Kota the public figure - a little withdrawn at the beginning, aloof in a way that wasn’t rude but suggested he was a little inaccessible. And then accommodating, childish joy and eagerness when his barriers were down and he felt comfortable.

And then Kota in private, easy and gentle, honest and wanting to know everything about him. It was hard for Kenny to give that last part up. Which was part of the dilemma he was facing now.

“Alright, fine. Since you asked. My first time…I’d been seeing her for a few months, she was the friend of a friend. She asked me out, and I hadn’t really dated properly before. I was busy during highschool, study and sports, and I was, you know-” Kenny made an abortive hand gesture. Kota raised an eyebrow and Kenny stopped, embarrassed. He wasn’t sure what he had been trying to express.

“I was still figuring out that I liked men and women. It was awkward! Anyway we dated, we slept together for the first time, I was super nervous, and I only told her afterwards that it had been my first. I don’t actually remember much because I was too busy trying not to panic. Maybe…I remember thinking that she had beautiful shoulders, and then thinking what a weird thing that was to appreciate.”

Kenny finished up, looking at the ceiling, knowing he was flushed. He wasn’t sure if he’d told anyone that before, not really.

Easily giving the simple response of ‘oh with my first serious girlfriend,’ had been enough to stop questions. Especially from people he didn’t trust to respond to the question with ‘did you mean with women or men?’

“Hm. I see.” Kota leaned over and kissed him on the corner of the mouth, and Kenny spluttered.

“You see? What sort of response is that?”

Kota laughed at him for being flustered, but with a kind expression. Kenny felt the embarrassment recede, just a little.

“Thank you, because I know you get nervous, all this. You’re fine with jerking me off in the locker room, you’ll be there to catch me when I’m falling but you shut down a little when I ask about something that you haven’t offered yourself,” Kota said, matter of fact. Kenny winced.

It was true but it made him feel like a coward. Kota didn’t seem like he was judging, though.

Physicality was something he felt far more confident in then opening up about his real thoughts, his memories.

He hoarded them away, and then disguised it by being open about things other people found hard. It usually worked, but Kota had sharper eyes then most. And he had a laser focus on Kenny.

“Did you want to know mine?” Kota asked, lazily throwing an arm over him.

“If you’re ok with it. I don’t…I don’t know what our boundaries are, Ibu…Kota,” Kenny said, cautious and awkward.

“We’ll work on it, don’t fret. Anyway. My first time. Interesting, rather then satisfying, I think. He was older, but not that much older. Patient. Over careful. I wanted something more, and he couldn’t deliver. It was fine for what it was.”

“What ‘more’ did you want, Kota?” Kenny asked, nervously. He didn’t want to know how he could be lacking as well, but he also didn’t want to feel more of an emotional coward then at the moment.

“He didn’t know me. He wasn’t prepared to ask me for things, for risks. He didn’t want to risk 'upsetting me’ so it was just kissing and one position for fucking. You aren’t like that. You know me. You ask, and don’t throw tantrums when I’m not interested. You put yourself on the line, even though I know it terrifies you. I appreciate that.”

Kenny, overwhelmed by the praise and by being seen so clearly, bit Kota on the bicep and pulled the blanket over their heads.

“Mixed signals! You want to have sex again, or you want to hide?” Kota, amused by Kenny’s squirming.

“You’re too much,” Kenny grumbled.

Kota kissed the back of his neck and then bit him back.

“I’m just the right amount for you.”


	3. First Blood

**FIRST BLOOD**

He hadn’t let himself feel it until now, deep and dark, sickness and pain bubbling up inside.

Kota was gone. He’d cleaved from his other half and now he was going to bleed out alone. Maybe this was always going to happen.

But he’d made the choice. Live with it, die because of it, his hand had been on the blade first. Kota had just pushed it down with him, and walked away.

He thought he was pre-empting pain. Sever it now before it becomes agony. A clean cut through their bond, and the remnants would wither away.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. He ached for Kota, the phantom pain of a limb destroyed was killing him.

He wondered when it would stop hurting. He wondered if he cauterised the wound with scorn, with dismissal, with the sheer gravity of distance, then maybe it would just scar over.

He wondered if he would ever feel complete.


	4. First Demand

**FIRST DEMAND**

Kenny looked through the salt of tears and sweat, flicking his gaze carefully to Kota. Kota stared back, unblinking. It was unnerving but achingly familiar. That laser focus back on him.

“Ibushi,” Kenny started to say, voice scratchy with crying but Kota held up a hand, interrupting.

“It’s Kota. In private, it’s always that. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Kenny because I know your tells.” Kota sounded steadier then him but his face was red from crying in the ring earlier.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take your hand easily…Ibutan,” Kenny whispered, risking it for the chance to see Kota smile. He’s rewarded.

“It’s ok. You needed more then a hand, and then you came back to me. It’s everything I wanted. I’m sorry about your friends though. It all seems a bit messy.”

Kota got up, grabbed a hand towel from the too small hotel bathroom and soaked it. Soaking and cooling the rawness of his face, before sitting down next to Kenny and then methodically doing the same to him.

 _It’s like I’m a child or a pet,_ Kenny thought, sick with self recrimination. But it had been so long since he’d been touched by Kota. He felt some of the nervous tension leave his body as Kota cleaned him up, tenderly.

The towel was discarded as Kota pushed him back onto the bed, and then lay down on his side, facing Kenny.

They weren’t touching but they may have as well been living in the same body. Kenny could feel the energy thick between them.

Kota reached out first, as always. He tucked a curl behind Kenny’s ear, laughing softly as it instantly sprang back.

“Kenny. I want to be us again. I want to stand with you, work with you, and, when I can, I want to kiss you. A lot. It’s been far too long,” Kota said.

He didn’t look away or move out of the path of Kenny gently kissing his cheek and then resting his head against Kota’s shoulder.

“I want that,” Kenny said, simply. He didn’t know what else to say. The loneliness he’d worn like a wedding veil was shredding beneath Kota’s firm hands.

“Kenny, if we are going to do this, I need something from you.”

Stern but not unkind, and Kenny feels his heart rate pick up. He’ll do it. He’ll give it up. He’ll start it. He’ll swear on a bible or cut off a pound of flesh.

Whatever Kota wants in this moment? Nothing seems too high a price.

“You have to look at me. You have to pay attention. See me as I am. Just a man, just your man. You can be dazzled, you can admire me,” Kota laughed in the middle of his request as Kenny laid there, frozen.

“In fact, please admire me. But don’t look away, hand wave away my flaws and idealise me into something I’m not. Pay attention to who I am, all of it. What’s the English saying? Warts and all?”

Kenny let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. Unwilling tears have sprung up again, he blinked them away furiously.

“I can do that. I can do that, Kota. Also you don’t have warts, but I’d love you even if you did.”

Kota mock glared at him.

“The warts are metaphoric…witches have warts right? I’d be a cool witch.”

“The coolest witch.”

They stared at each other and then, almost simultaneously burst into near hysterical laughter.

“Kota, what the fuck?” Kenny wheezed out, between involuntary laughter. Kota got himself back under control.

“I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, I’m so tired,” Kota sighed. He’d been resting his arm casually on Kenny, and now he brought it down around him, pressing closer.

“I’m tired, too. It feels like I haven’t slept for 5 years.” Kenny felt the vibration of his speech on Kota’s skin.

It was terrifyingly intimate, maybe moreso then even the kiss Kota had pulled him into the moment they’d cleared the gaunlet of the press and fellow wrestlers.

“Sleep in a moment. First, put a shirt on. Let’s go speak to your sad friends in the colourful pants,” Kota said brightly.

Kenny pulled his face out of the crook of Kota’s neck to look at him properly.

“They’re the bucks, the young bucks. You know that, Kota,” Kenny said and then felt something in him twist, and he felt softer, calmer.

“I see you.”

“Thank you. Keep looking at me, Kenny-tan.”


	5. First Strike

**FIRST STRIKE**

Every time they hit the Golden Trigger, it was like discovering it all over again. Their bodies communicate through the blow to another person. A sacred connection, force overwhelming and then laying on top of their prone foe, more communication. Hands on each other, spreading energy through one another, an every day magic that they both possessed.

Kenny thought about the cliche of 'my body is a temple’. Perhaps there was a truth there for him.

He prayed with every move and twist with Kota, in and out of the ring. They sacrificed at the altar of victory, blood spat out or dripping through hair, bruised meat of their bodies.

The waterwheel at the centre of the shine love built, powered by belief and momentum, was unstoppable. They were an inevitable advent, the avalanche waiting to cascade down the mountain.

They could lose a hundred times and still be unconquerable. What was a loss, in the face of the biggest win of all, their reforged bond, gleaming and golden?

 _Watch me, as I watch you_ , Kenny thought and Kota turned as if he could read his mind. And then, their focus on their task at hand.

They looked at each other, smiles mirroring each other, as they moved in unison and shouted.

“OK!”


	6. Unending

**UNENDING**

“I never fell out of love with you. I tried to, but there wasn’t a possibility.”

“I know, Kenny. I didn’t want to pine either but it just grew and grew. I watched every one of your matches just to feed it fuel, because it felt like I was starving.”

A movement in the dark, always seeking more contact from one another. There wasn't a point where the concept of too close occurred to either of them, intertwined bodies and hearts.

Late night confessions had become second nature, just like they’d been at their beginning.

“I won’t let you go hungry anymore.”

A chuckle and a fiercer then expected kiss. A gasp as a hand traveled further down a willing, previously spent body.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“My pleasure, Kota. It’s my pleasure.”


End file.
